Change in the Tide
by Phoenix Belfalas
Summary: Sixth in a series of short vignettes, ‘Bad Faith’, in which Lucius finds out about his son’s pain, has a chat with Severus, and storms off to see Dumbledore. Warning - hint of slash.


Title – Change in the Tide

Authoress – Phoenix Tears

Summary – Sixth in a series of short vignettes, 'Bad Faith', in which Lucius finds out about his son's pain, has a chat with Severus, and storms off to see Dumbledore.

Rating – PG

Warning – Slash [Only if you have read the other vignettes]. Don't like – don't read.

Disclaimer – I own nothing, except for this plot. Everything else belongs to J.K. Rowling.

Feedback – Of course, as for every writer, questions, thoughts, and constructive criticism are all greatly appreciated. Thank you, and enjoy.

~*~

When Severus' head appeared by fire networking in the fireplace of my grand study, I took no note of it and continued working. After all, he visited me frequently and updated me on Draco's academic progress. I assumed this time was no different.

However, when he didn't speak in the first few minutes, I turned irritably towards him, ready to snap. After all, I had to finish writing a petition for the school board to override the decision to take away the paintings on the sixth floor corridor in the West Wing. Trivial, perhaps, but vital to my position as school governor.

Severus looked tired and pale, even more so than usual, if possible. His usually glittering black eyes were now dull and tired from lack of sleep. His robes were hastily thrown on and wrinkled.

"What's wrong, Sev? You look like shit," I said, ever blunt to my best friend.

"Thanks, Lucifer," he said tiredly, using my old nickname. "It's about Draco."

He said the most feared words that I had expected. Well, perhaps, besides, 'All the Malfoy funds have just gone bankrupt' or 'Draco was killed' or 'The Dark Lord has suddenly lost his mind, started taking ballet lessons, and is planning a well-needed retreat in sunny, tropical Cancun', but you understand what I am trying to convey.

I immediately stood up sharply, the wooden legs of my expensive chestnut chair moving soundlessly across the Persian-imported rug. Swiftly walking over to where his head floated in flames, I asked worriedly, "Is he alright?"

"Yes and no. He is physically fine, but not emotionally. I think you should come to Hogwarts and talk to me face-to-face. I am sure that you will want to have a talk with the Headmaster after you speak with me."

Nodding, I Apparated to the outskirts of Hogwarts and walked the rest of the way to the main entrance. The time was about seven in the evening, and several students were just walking out of the Great Hall. They took one glance at me and fled, terrified. I smirked outwardly, but on the inside, my emotions were a jumbled mess.

I walked brusquely to the dungeons, to the Slytherin's section of the castle, to Severus' private quarters and his office. The stone gargoyle let me in. Apparently it had been instructed to do so. I found Sev grading papers at his desk, angrily marking off mistakes in glaring red ink. "Severus?" I said.

He looked up and sighed, motioning for me to take a seat. As I did, he explained to me the events about Miss Parkinson and Mr. Zabini, and purposely making Draco walk in on them while they were engaged in sexual activities. I immediately knew that Blaise had been placed under the Imperius curse; I had tested Blaise before he left the Manor during Yule Break and had confirmed that he truly did love Draco.

My blood, by this time, was boiling, and I was mentally negating Draco's engagement to Pansy Parkinson, as well as going over the numerous violations of law and wizarding treaties that they had broken.

"Does Hogwarts not have Dark Arts monitors, Severus?" I asked angrily.

"Yes, they do. Albus noticed when they went off, and called an emergency meeting. They assumed, as it was right before a Hogsmeade trip, that Voldemort or his minions might be trying to get to a certain Mr. Harry Potter and his friends, and they were placed under close surveillance. Harry Potter and his companions were separated and placed under the guard of a confidential wizard. No one suspected that the victim of the act was not meant to be their precious Boy-Who-Lived," Severus spat heatedly.

"I'll be right back," I said to him, my blood boiling even more. In a melodramatic sweep of my black and silver robes, I was walking briskly up the stairs, down corridors, and past whispering portraits to Dumbledore's office. The portraits – how could I _ever_ forget the gossiping, curious portraits of Hogwarts?

_"Oh, look! It's Lucius Malfoy. I haven't seen him for quite a long time…"_

_"Didn't you hear? His son is sobbing something dreadful in his new quarters…"_

_"Have you talked to the Bloody Baron yet? He has a soft spot for Malfoys…"_

_"Isn't Malfoy a Death Eater? I always knew he'd turn out bad…"_

Pity Silencing Spells can't be cast on portraits.

Coming to the entrance of the Headmaster's office, I started shouting all the names of Muggle and Wizarding candy that I knew. Luckily for me, it turned out to be 'Sugar Quills', which was only the third one I guessed.

Composing myself inwardly, I smoothed my robes and hair, and walked into the Headmaster's office. I only briefly noticed Harry Potter sitting on a couch, as if waiting, and shot him a glare filled with venom. The boy was taken aback, and I walked past him. As I entered Dumbledore's office, I saw Remus Lupin coming out, and I gave him a curt, albeit polite, nod. Lupin returned it in like, smiling as well. His amber eyes and graying brown hair showed his haggardness. Lupin and I were on civil terms, though Severus and Sirius Black were always grappling and sniping at each other like immature wizards.

Far too puerile for my liking, I would tell Severus disapprovingly.

Dumbledore sat at his ridiculously plain desk, full of magical objects and parchments – I have always been adamant of elegance and cleanliness. He was surprised to see me, but recovered quickly and smiled genially at me.

"Why, hello, Lucius. Would you care for a lemon drop?"

Plastering a condescending look at the muggle candy, I politely replied, "Thank you for the offer, Albus. However, I have not come here to chat nicely over lemon drops and Muggle candy." The sarcasm was evident and stung sharply.

Undaunted, Dumbledore's bright blue eyes sparkled happily before he asked, "A cup of tea, perhaps?"

"Yes, please," I said scathingly, sitting myself down graciously in a chair.

It was the beginning of a change in the tide.

~*~

Authoress' Note: The conversation will be told in the next ficlet, which will be from Albus Dumbledore's point of view. 


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